Idaho news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1887-1891, 1887-09-10
40.
BY ALEX DUKE RAnIE.
Two FOR five! Two for iivel"

continually piped forth from the lip
of a poor old man who for year,
haunted the neighborhood of our OF
fee.
He was white of face and hair, hi.
narrow shoulders bent with age, hi.
hands were well-nigh useless from tn,
palsy, and his tottering limbs seemed
every moment about to refuse further
support to his frail body.
From strap over his shoulders
was suspended in front of his chest a
shallow box containing several dozen
lead pencils, and some friendly clerk
had numerically designated in a pla-
card on the lid, '2-4-5," the price
which formed the burden OF his cry.
! had bought of him several times in
order to try and draw him into con-
versation, but he would not talk to
me or any one.
After on absence of over Is months
from the city, the morning after my
arrival, as reached the office door,
spied short distance up the street
/ SAS AttiiAAAeiL tctSG Vi Olu W. lOE
| Five" and to my amazement in front
OF him standing like son by afather,
but towering far above, was Jack
Blunt, the big, rough, noble fireman
whom | had known from boyhood.
The old man had one of Jacks
| great brown hands in his own two
trembling palms; for a minute he
seemed to be gazing up into Jacks
face, then he bowed his head for a mo-
ment and the two parted.
Blunt walked slowly down past me.
stepped out from the doorway and
saluted him with a hearty slap on the
shoulder.
"Hello, cap! Back again? Glad to
see you. How's everything"
"All right, Jack; but look here, l
want you to tell me what the dickens
you and old 'two for five" were at
Just now. Was he hoo-doin' or bless
ing you? | nor no one else ever could
get word from him, and you are the
last man in the world ever expected
to see him chum in with"
II see! you was away. cap. I'd
rather some one else would tell YOU
than me, but I'll give it to YOU
straight and short as can, and then
there won't be no frills on the story
that some of your newspaper fellers
be sure to dress it up with"
Come up to my den, Jack; smoke
and let's have it.
at was winter fore last" said the
gallant fre-laddie, chat one bowling,
showing, sleeting blizzard OF night,
January l it was, and bitter cold
enough to freeze the legs off red-hot
stove; there came the call from box
SO, down there in the poorest, worst
section OF the eighth ward. Twas
9.43 when we started, and in IL min
utes we were at the ground and had
our streams on. But Lord the wat
er troze almost afore it got an inch
from the nozzle, and the fire burned
as though it knew it had the best OF
us.
There was an old three-story ram
shackle shanty that just swarmed with
people, too skeered to help them
selves, so we had TO rush in and help
or pitch them out. We thought the
place was emptied and was going to
let 'er burn and try to save property
worth something when little black
kid ketches hold OF me and says:
say. mister, dars an old man an
his sick darUer up'n de top flo; de's
white, en- de's good, en- de can't holp
demselfs."
"By George! / was knocked all of q
heap, ARE you lynn, you black imp"
says |.
Deed no, mister, de's der, and dell
bun up eli yo dun't fetch en-
sFThp old chall ,,oII
by that time, and the smoke in it was
awful. Here goes, anyway, thinks ],
SO OFF with my coat, puts it over my
head, and started to crawl up the |
rlckety old stairs. When | got to the |
top floor or garnet, Hound all the
doors were shut; l busted one open
with my foot; no one there; then |
busted another, and in it | found
who do you think?
There was old 'Two-for.five' sitting |
close to bed, and leaning from it a |
girl OF about 20, the purest face ever
saw in my life. Her two thin arms
were about the old mans neck. There
they were waiting without cry, both
knowing there own helplessness until
rescue come or death by fire should
devour them.
at beat all ever saw-theatre or
anything-the whole picture, the calm
ness of them two. The girl was with
out the use of her limbs, and the old
man had no power in his hands or
arms.
Here's helpp' cried the girl. "Ob,
sir, take my father. Go, father, go!''
For Gods sake, save my Mary!
Man, she's crlppled-can't move. Save
my Mary" That's what the old chap
said.
"Well. l had to act, not talk; so I
just rolled that girl up head and all in
the bed-clothes and Jumped for that
old stairway. There was bout as
much fire there as / wanted, but | got
through, run the bundle across the
street to Batty Sewers place - now
you know where the fire was - and
LAID 1t right down on the foornigh the
stove. Then / uncovered her face.
"Father! Save my father" That was
the only thing she said.
I'm goin' to, says Though didn't
hardly believe | could, but / went for
it.. And ! tell you it was a devil OF a
Job. But got up, and there was the
old man, cool as q parson at q picnic,
settln' with the flames licking into his
| bundled him up IN nv
coat and carried him-he don't weigh
half pound-down stairs, somehow.
don't know how we ever did get out
Of there alive, except it was that girl
was over there prayin' for us. But | G
aid the old man 'longside OF his Mary, f
and then sorter laid out myself, for :
was in no bad state OF barbecue for :
any cannibals that liked their meat I
rare. /